The insults which had been heaped upon the flag under which his grandfather had fought and died, made the blood boil in his veins, and he often wished that he could enlist with the brave defenders of his country.

He grew more excited each day, as the struggle went on, and the news of a triumph or defeat would fire his spirit, and he longed to be standing side by side with the soldiers of the Union, that he might share in their triumphs, or assist in retrieving their disasters.
He was left almost alone now, for many of the boys of his acquaintance had shouldered their muskets and gone off with the others; and that very day he had met Harry Butler, who had enlisted as a private, wearing the uniform of a lieutenant, which he had won by his bravery at Fort Donelson.
He had never said one word to his mother about enlisting, for he was an only son, and he dreaded to ask her permission.

But that mother's quick eye easily read what was going on in her son's mind.

She had Puritan blood in her veins; her ancestors had fought in the war of the Revolution, and she had resolved that, if Frank wished to go, she would give her full consent.

A mother's heart alone can tell the struggle it had cost her to come to this determination.
"I've got a letter from Archie, also," said Frank.
His mother took it from his hand, and read as follows: Portland, _March_ 18, 1862.
Dear Cousin: I am about to tell you something which you will call strange news.
Father has at last given his consent to my going to war, provided you will go too.